


Pizza is Good

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Humor, Pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard has smuggled a frozen pizza on board the Normandy. Can she enjoy it in peace and quiet? Not likely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza is Good

Pizza. Frozen, but nevertheless  _pizza_. A real treat on board the  _Normandy_ , and Shepard knew as much when she dropped major credits at the last supply station for this 15 inch, thin-crusted gem. Where it came from, she knew not, but the package claimed “New York-style,” which sold her immediately.

 

And it didn’t disappoint. When she pulled the pie out of the oven at 0200, the mouth-watering aromas of cheese and pepperoni could lift her towards the stars. She’d been saving this meal for an exceptionally bad day. And today was pretty  _god damn_  bad. Thresher maw levels bad. Still, she was glad it was over and Grunt’s rite of passage successful.

 

_And now for some well-deserved alone time with this mozzarella infused angel…_

“Hey, what’s that?” Grunt’s voice boomed from behind.

 

Shepard nearly sliced herself open with the pizza cutter. He did it again. Snuck up on her like a one-ton panther. A talent displayed only whenever food seemed to be involved on the ship.   _Manipulative son of a…_

 

“Grunt,” she tried to recompose herself. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

 

“Too amped from the day,” she noticed his gaze securely locked onto  _her_ pizza. “Uh…smells real good. Is that for eating?”

 

“Yes. It’s called a ‘pizza.’ Classic Earth dish.”

 

“Oh.”

 

And then they stood in silence. Shepard eyeing the krogan eyeing her precious midnight snack. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Grunt had only been tankborn not so long ago. After all, he fought with the experience of a skilled krogan veteran, but then there were moments like these…

 

“Did you need something?” Shepard finally asked as if she didn’t already know.

 

“I’m hungry,” he rumbled bluntly.

 

“And what do we say when we want something?”

 

“I am pure krogan!” he bellowed immediately, raising both fists into the air. “You should be in —”

 

“ _Well, I guess I’m eating this pizza by myself!_ ” Shepard bellowed louder. The sleeping crew could whine tomorrow. She wasn’t about to let the krogan run all over her. Not on her ship. Not when _she_  was the battlemaster.

 

“Please.” The word surfaced from him like an uncomfortable belch.

 

“That’s better.” She rolled the cutter directly down the center of the pie. “Sit down!” she warned when he growled impatiently.  On one side, she sliced the pizza into four slices, while the other side remained undivided. “If you’re going to eat New York-styled pizza, you have to eat it correctly,” she explained. “Now watch.”

 

One human-sized slice was folded before Shepard took a large bite.  _Pure. Ecstasy._  The loud thumping of Grunt’s stumpy tail threatened bloodrage if he didn’t eat soon.  And for once, Shepard could relate. “Go ahead. Fold yours in half,” she ordered.

 

Grunt flapped the half-pie haphazardly on itself and eagerly crammed it down his maw. Tomato sauce squirted across his face, and strings of cheese clung to his jugular. “SHEPURD!” he gurgled enthusiastically. “PIZZA IS GOOD!”

 

“Yes, Grunt,” she grinned between mouthfuls. “Pizza is good.”


End file.
